


Thank You, Professor

by MarshmallowFudgeUp



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, and fluff, byleth is sonic? confirmed, lots of hurt/comfort up in this hoe, more characters will be added as chapters include them, not clogging up the tagging system for ships if i didnt add them yet or they arent a focus, we got angst, we got it all folks B), we got memes, we got romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowFudgeUp/pseuds/MarshmallowFudgeUp
Summary: If there was one thing holding them all together, it was Professor Byleth.[A collection of stories featuring Byleth and the students, from a multitude of perspectives.]





	1. Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome. I just wanna preface this fanfiction by saying that this is a series of one-shots. Some may be shippy, some may be memey, some may be angsty. I'll make sure to add warnings for common triggers before chapters they pertain to, and I'll also make sure to say if a chapter is focusing on a romantic ship. 
> 
> With that said, I have no clue how many one-shots I'll be adding to this. But unless I specify that a certain story has a part 2, consider it complete. That isn't to say I won't take comments/requests into consideration... :3
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> P. S. I didn't finish the game yet, and I know others haven't either. So please don't mention anything past the time skip in the comments! :D

_ \- - - _

_ “Did you hear about that new professor with the blank face? Apparently they knocked over several students while running off somewhere, and didn’t even stop to see if they were okay!”  _

_ “Oh, how awful!”  _

\- - -

Rumors spread throughout the monastery like water traveling through nooks and crannies, flooding conversations with gossip and heresy. Claude was privy to this phenomenon, and he typically used this to his advantage. Offer up an intriguing line of dialogue, perform for the appeal to the masses. Why not use the spread of word to better his reputation? It’s a strategy any savant would utilize. 

But because Claude happened to use gossip to further help his social standing, he was intimately aware of how it can easily backfire. After all, any fool will take rumors at face value, then take those rumors and keep it in circulation. Then it’s clear to establish that even though information spreads, that doesn’t exclude it from being complete horseshit. 

For example, the latest tidbit going around on Claude is completely inaccurate. Just because he  _ happened _ to be inclined to underhanded methods doesn’t mean he’s a cheater. He won that game of chess against Dimitri fairly, thank you very much. A schemer, yes. Manipulator? Perhaps sometimes. But to put his cleverness and tactical talent up for question was utterly ridiculous! 

And so, when Claude happened to hear some roaming monks complaining about the professor,  _ his  _ professor, he didn’t believe it to be true. For people like to listen to their mouths spew nonsense, and the professor was a new and popular topic at Garreg Mach. A complete anomaly, a walking mystery-- no one knew them. Even Jeralt the Blade Breaker, former captain and leader of the Seiros Knights,  _ father  _ of the professor, knew (or acted like he knew) little about them. Of course people were going to talk, it was inevitable. 

Still, it would be unwise for Claude to dismiss the rumor entirely. He stored the information away, dubbing it neither true nor false. Just another question to add to the endless list about Teach. A list that sorely needed to be addressed soon, before Claude began to lose his goddess-damned mind out of curiosity. 

\- - - 

It was three days later that the rumor being spread about Teach, while perhaps exaggerated, was confirmed to be true. 

It was noon verging on evening, and classes had let out a couple hours ago. Just as class was being dismissed, Teach had praised him for a job well done on an essay he submitted the week previous. He was still riding that high when he started talking with Hilda in the courtyard outside the classrooms. She was teasing him for the (non-existent) blush that had spread across his nose with the professor’s compliment. 

“Like you wouldn’t do the same,” He accused her jokingly, mouth tilting into an ingenuine smirk. Best not give her reason to believe she was encroaching on dangerous territory, as she wouldn’t hesitate to use that information to her advantage. Schemers knew schemers, after all. Unfortunately, her merciless egging was making whatever warmth that remained from the commendation fade into a slight irritation. Actually, now that he thought about it, why was he so thrilled by Teach’s approval in the first place? 

Speak of the devil, and they shall appear. In a blurred rush of blue hair and black clothes, that is. Hilda cut off whatever she was saying to squawk, startled into backing up. Claude himself had taken an involuntary step back, eyes widening. But as soon as he comprehended that it was  _ Teach  _ that was running like a bat out of hell, they were turning the corner towards the training grounds. In front of them, a student cried out in delayed shock as Teach sprinted by. 

“Hey!” He sputtered out as he juggled with the books he nearly dropped from fright. 

Claude turned to exchange a bewildered look with Hilda, his mouth slightly agape. 

_ What in the world!? Was there an emergency!?  _ Before Claude could even think to act himself, someone spoke. 

“Not again…” Grumbled a guard posted nearby. Claude turned to stare. 

\- - -

It was only later that night in the dormitory hall that Claude learned through the grapevine that Teach was, in fact, heading towards the training grounds at breakneck speeds. There wasn’t an emergency, or an urgent reason to be there, however.

In fact, Teach was there to gift everyone with flowers (yes, including a grumpy and flustered Felix). Maybe rumors did have some merit, after all. 


	2. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warning:** canonical character death, blood tw, dissociation tw, death tw, unhealthy response(?) to death of a loved one
> 
> If you have any questions or concerns feel free to PM me or send me an ask at @marshmallowfudgeup on tumblr.

\- - -

Nothing could touch them. Nothing but the chill of the rain, and Jeralt’s quickly cooling skin. They could not bring themselves back to the present, could not pull it together. Could hardly fall apart. 

Rewind time. Again, again, again. Blood dribbled from their nose, a consequence of using divine pulse one too many times. Temples throbbing, light-headed. Byleth tasted copper. It didn’t matter that there were no more chances. They reached within themselves despite this, desperate, over and over and over. But what was done was done. 

Sometime later. Minutes or days later, feet drew close to Jeralt. Byleth pulled a dagger out without thought, eyes unseeing. No one was to touch him. No one. 

The rain was making their vision blurry. The rain was both salty and hot. Distantly, they heard a voice. Gentle, yet tight. Retrained. 

“C’mon, teach… We have to bring him home.” And whoever spoke was right. Jeralt needed to come home. Needed to be away from the hard dirt and debris, the broken dilapidated buildings. Wordlessly, Byleth sheathed the knife. Lifted Jeralt, armor and all. Dead weight. Something deep inside Byleth-- perhaps a small child-- was crying for their father. 

Little things nearly brought Byleth back. The squelch of mud. A muffled sob. The hiss of a whisper. But still. It was as though they were simply a vessel fulfilling a job. A body without a soul. Byleth was lost, and Sothis was quiet. Or maybe Byleth didn’t want to hear her. 

Emptiness. Waning, waxing. Beyond the ache present in their chest, Byleth couldn’t help but fixate on how they felt both nothing and everything. Was this barren abyss within them a result of having no heartbeat? Or was this something anyone was capable of experiencing? Byleth couldn’t fathom it. 

At some point grass and dirt changed to tile. The downpour let up into a drizzle. Byleth, for a brief moment, came back. There was no denying it, no chance for a different outcome. Jeralt was dead. 

They let them take his corpse away. Saw students-- some their own-- be ushered away. Byleth stood there silently. Unmoving besides the involuntary chattering of their teeth. Cold. It was so cold. 

“You should wash up, Byleth.” A soft voice. Soft hands, grasping for their numbed fingers. The very brief sensation of one of their wrists being stroked. 

Byleth was lead to the baths. Mud, sweat, and blood was rinsed from their hair. Someone caressed their cheek, tried to get their attention. But Byleth was gone again, a mere shell without an inhabitant. The water was warm. But their body remained cold. 

Byleth was guided to their room. The space made the hole within them gap wider, hurt more. Perhaps it was because the room remained untouched, unchanged by the tragedy that took place not hours ago. 

Somehow, Byleth ended up tucked into bed. A final, brief brush of skin against their forehead. The quiet _ shhh _of a candle being blown out. The lock and shut of a door. 

Their head was pounding, a constant _ thump thump thump _that Byleth only knew from listening with one ear against their father’s chest. The reminder made the pain unbearable.

Instinctively, their eyes slid closed and their body curled up. Their body shuddered, shaking from the strain. And finally, finally alone, they released the impatient beast caged within their chest. 

And Byleth weeped. 

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just replayed chapter 9. Catch me crying in the club boys :^(((
> 
> Sidenote: I use the pronouns they/them while referring to Byleth because that's how they are referred to in the actual game. If you want to imagine Byleth as a girl or boy, that's your prerogative! :3
> 
> Side Sidenote: I love comments/reactions/questions. It doesn't have to be anything crazy-- I'd be happy with a simple "lol nice"


	3. Sweat - Hilda x Marianne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here we have our first shippy one-shot, featuring fluffy Hilda/Marianne! I'm surprised I haven't seen more fanfics with the two of them. No other warnings besides the fact that it may be a pairing you dislike!

\- - -

Professor Byleth clapped once, signaling an end to the sparring session. Wooden training weapons clattered loudly, dropped listlessly to the dusty floor. Hilda nearly collapsed right where she stood, legs screaming from strain. Beside her, Marianne propped her hands on her knees, breathing harshly. Sparse hairs came loose from the bun she kept it in, sticking messily to her flushed neck. For a moment Hilda was more concerned with how Marianne looked like she would pass out, rather than with her own crying lungs. 

“Nice job, ladies. Marianne, keep practicing. Soon enough you’ll be comfortable with how much range your blade has. Hilda, I’m proud of you for giving it your all. You’re dismissed for the day.” 

And with that, the professor turned from the carnage they caused and walked away. Hilda finally gave in and plopped heavily on the ground. Everything _ ached_. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Hilda caught Marianne fumble for something. From her pocket she pulled an embroidered handkerchief, unfolding it with care. Then, hesitating for but a moment, knelt down beside her. Before she knew what was happening, a soft cloth was being blotted gently across her brow. Cheeks suddenly flaming, Hilda pulled her face out of reach. 

“W-Whoa, Marianne!” She sputtered, floundering. “Am I that sweaty?” On her knees in front of Hilda, Marianne shifted uneasily. Her cheeks were ripe apples, her eyes downcast as she brought her reaching hand into her lap. She clutched at the offending cloth, as if to reverse her behavior by strangling the object that caused it. 

“W-Well, not especially.” Her voice was soft, timid. Not like how it has been, recently. It had grown in strength as she grew more comfortable with Hilda. But now it was as though she reverted to her old mannerisms. “I-- I wanted to be of h-help.” 

Now that wouldn’t do. Hilda brought a hand out, lifting Marianne’s chin with a careful finger. She withdrew it after affirming Marianne wasn’t going to look away, and she made sure that her gaze was firmly met before she began speaking. 

“No, no, sweetheart. You’re fine.” She smiled widely, encouraging. Her eyes crinkled. “I was just startled. You’re super sweet.” Marianne, if possible, turned redder. But despite her apparent embarrassment, she kept eye contact, refusing to look away as she once did. 

“I apologize for surprising you, Hilda. And thank you for training with me.” Her lips tilted in a small smile, saccharine with its genuineness. Her eyes never wavered. Hilda couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. She was too cute, honestly. Forcing herself to stand, she offered her hand. Marianne took it without hesitation. 

“You can thank me by washing my back in the sauna.” Hilda bargained, pulling Marianne along. Her hum of agreement trailed after the pair. 

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates? On the same day? Who the actual fuck am I and what did I do with the original Mallow!?
> 
> Also: thank you so much for all the kudos! I super duper appreciate it <3


	4. Carry On Another Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth already had one regret in their life. They weren't going to let this be the second one. To hell with fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warning:** blood, mild gore, violence, alludes to a possible canon character death
> 
> ***Spoilers for the Golden Deer Route up to CH17***

_\- - -_

_You can’t save everyone_. 

Byleth wanted to protest, to riot. But all was hidden behind the mask of indifference that was their face. If there were ever a moment where they were to outwardly express themselves, it was then. 

_Why does it matter if you can’t save him? _

Over and over again, Byleth reconstructed their students’ paths. Annette stabbed from behind, dark magic aimless as it hits nearby allies. Ferdinand set aflame, flesh scorching, horse screaming. Flayn trampled by gambitting soldiers, dress dirtied with mud. 

Desperation, fear, drives Byleth to order their former students away from the Faerghus soldiers. Away from a wild haired, mad-eyed Dimitri and stoic Dedue. 

_A beastly child, stuck in eternal hell. His faithful retainer, an accessory to be used until broken. _

Some might call Byleth a seer for how instead of being in the moment, they are in the future. Over and over, in realities that no longer exist. Constantly calculating each move and the inevitable consequences following. 

_Why do you care? Why do you try? Why do you live? _

Avoid conflict, combat, and maybe they can cease this needless fighting. Wait for the realization that they’re fighting the same enemies, and not just anyone. 

And yet. The Faerghus army was relentlessly chasing after, killing the few Empire soldiers that managed to slip by the Alliance. Following after, bloodshed everywhere. No one spared. 

Why, why, _why _did it have to be like this? Every move leading to failure. 

Send out Ashe. Sliced down, bow arm several feet away. Send out Felix. Guts spill free around the lance. Send out Ingrid. Sprawled bloody on a grounded pegasus corpse. Rewind, rewind, until a pulse worked out in their favor. 

Byleth was running out of moves. Out of time. The panic was seeping through the numbness of their hands, cool with the damp fog. The Empire had long retreated. 

Byleth had two pulses remaining. The battlefield was blurred, a jumble of colors. Or maybe that was just their vision. After all, the only other time Byleth used up all their pulses was with Jeralt. They hadn’t been able to see then, either, but they had attributed that to the rainfall and tears. 

Nothing and no one was stopping Dimitri. And so Byleth would have to be the one to stop him. 

“Your orders?” Claude asked, flying over with his albino wyvern. His expression hardened as he looked over their bloodied form. They turned to face him, pale locks sticking to their face. Always-- _always-- _unreadable. 

Byleth quietly observed that Claude was unmarred, sans the blood splatters of others across his uniform. They took a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding. 

“Get as much distance as you can from the remaining soldiers. Have healers help the wounded along the way.” Claude nodded grimly, already having an idea of what was to come. This wasn’t a battle they could run from, nor was it a battle they would lose. Despite the dread curdling within his stomach, Claude chose to trust in his friend. As always. 

Faerghus troops everywhere. No clear way through. So Byleth would make their own. Sliding through slippery grass and loose mud, dodging attacks left right and above. Byleth incapacitated everyone they passed, and mildly injured others enough to scare them into retreat. Months upon months of tedious training, endless grinding, made this feat manageable. 

Still. By the time Dimitri was well within reach, mere meters between them, Byleth was out of breath. And Dimitri was not kind enough to hesitate, bloodthirsty. 

“Are you going to get in my way as well? Die.” A growl, rocks grinding against rocks. 

Byleth saw it coming the second Dimitri twitched forward. It was sloppy. A charge made of reckless abandon, of endless anger. Unseeing. Blind. 

The lance pushed inwards, breaking through organs and vessels. And Byleth let it tear through them, pale and determined. 

As Dimitri pulled, Byleth came with it, a steady grip holding the weapon within them. Dimitri seemed to think that the relic was embedded rather than held there, and so he yanked harshly, bringing Byleth forward. They took advantage of this, coming face to face with their old student. 

“Dimitri." Byleth said through gritted teeth. Through the taste of copper and pain. 

Dimitri roared wordlessly, shoving at their shoulders. But Byleth held a tight grip on the metal piercing them, gasping out as it shifted harshly.

“_Dimitri._” They repeated, a hiss, green eyes glaring. A fist flying towards their face. Byleth narrowly dodged, falling to their knees. Dimitri lifted a heavy boot to stomp them into the ground, and Byleth experienced their skull shattering.

A pulse. Distortion. 

Byleth lunged upwards using the momentum from pushing themselves off their knees, and they grasped at Dimitri’s armour clad shoulders. A brief moment, and then a gloved hand wrapped around their throat, strangling them. Byleth’s weak gasps were cut off abruptly, limp limbs aching as they reached for some sort of purchase. 

A pulse. The last one. Byleth felt snot-- or maybe it was blood-- dripping from their nose. As they grasped at Dimitri’s shoulders, they pushed forward. Inches between their faces. Dimitri’s visible eye widening, blue blue blue blue. 

"_E__NOUGH!_” Byleth screamed, throat tearing, flames licking, as if torn apart with the screech. Everything out of focus, a wet blur. Tears of anguish dripping down their face. 

“Enough, Dimitri.” Byleth managed after a moment of dead silence, a harsh noise, hardly a whisper. They choked, the tang of blood spilling from their lips. “... Enough.” 

Byleth registered a soft sound, the intake of air-- a gasp of consciousness, of awareness. Boots squeaking through dew-damp grass. 

And pain, all-encompassing, as a fist is swung into the left side of their face. 

As Byleth started fading into the darkness, a voice seemed to vibrate through them. 

"_D__edue! Why would you-- it doesn’t matter, get a healer!” _

_\- - -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished chapter 17. I am Not Happy, sir.
> 
> So... I wrote this. Sorry for the inaccuracies or out-of-character stuff. I was under the assumption that if I defeated Dimitri, he would retreat like Edelgard and Hubert. Boy Was I Wrong when Hilda started speaking. And now I am a sad guy :(((
> 
> Btw this is directly related to my playthrough at the time, so I mentioned a bunch of names to allude to how I recruited literally everyone besides the duos (Dimi/Dedue and Edie/Hubie). 
> 
> Leave a comment if you feel inclined. I would really appreciate it.
> 
> **Edit: ** This one-shot was originally published separately, but I decided to move it to here for cohesion/organization.

**Author's Note:**

> You Cannot tell me that Byleth doesn’t actually run around the monastery Like That in lore. You mean to tell me that certain gameplay mechanics don’t pertain to the story? Oh look suddenly I Can’t Read.


End file.
